


Kiss It Better?

by Larryruinedme



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Fluff, I suck at tags, Kid Fic, Kindergarten AU, Kindergarten Harry, M/M, No Seriously This Is So Fluffy I Made Myself Sick, Oneshot, Second Grader Louis, larry - Freeform, larry stylinson - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-13
Updated: 2015-08-13
Packaged: 2018-04-14 13:10:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,059
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4565799
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Larryruinedme/pseuds/Larryruinedme
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Harry trips and falls, Louis is there to kiss his boo-boos and make everything okay.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Kiss It Better?

**Author's Note:**

> I've returned from the dead! I was thinking last night, and the idea for this fic just popped into my head out of nowhere, so I thought I might as well write it. I wasn't planning on publishing it, but a friend told me to, so once again, why not? This is literally just a tiny little oneshot with kid!Larry, and its extremely pointless but I thought it was cute.
> 
> Follow my Instagram if you want to ~ [dicksoutforlarry](https://instagram.com/dicksoutforlarry/)
> 
> I hope you enjoy this, I thought it was pretty cute (:

A warm breeze caresses Harry's soft skin as he steps out the doors of the school. He takes a deep breath, filling his small lungs up as far as they can go before slowly exhaling. The fresh air smells nice. The smell is a mix between dirt, freshly cut grass, and a clean, invigorating scent that Harry has come to associate with the beginning of a beautiful spring.

It's one of the nicest days in a while. The rain has subsided for a couple days, and the clouds outside are the white and fluffy kind that always seem to entrance 4-year-old Harry Styles. A warm, bright sun is just peeking out from behind one of said clouds, the light from it glinting off of Harry's skin and warming him up in the most delicious way.

School has been great so far for Harry. He's made a lot of friends, he loves the constant movement and the fun activities, and his teacher once said that Harry is her "Favorite Helper". Harry practically glowed with pride. However, since the very first day of kindergarten, Harry has always loved recess the most. There's something about being able to run around, climb on things, look at bugs, or do whatever he wants that makes Harry ridiculously happy, and today is no exception. Harry's short little legs are itching to carry him to the monkey bars, his favorite part of the playground. Ever since Harry learned how to complete them, he's had a sort of magnetic attraction to the metal bars.

Not able to resist it anymore, Harry takes off running. His velcro trainers slap against the pavement as he dashes toward the welcoming dirt and grass of the playground, headed straight for his beloved monkey bars. A warm breeze strokes his skin as he runs, blowing his soft, straight hair back and revealing the skin of his forehead.

But then, just as Harry's reaching his top running speed, about a meter from the fresh dirt of the playground, the toe of his trainer catches on the ground. He has a moment of panic, falling down, down, down until he feels impact on his knees and palms.

And, ouch, that _hurts_. Harry looks down at his palms to see the previously soft skin scraped and bruised, not even resembling the smooth, pale skin that he remembers being there. His emerald gaze shifts from the palms of his hands to the skin of his knees, which feel raw and uncomfortable. They're even worse. Blood is already staining the skin there, and the scrape on Harry's right knee hurts really, really bad. _Ouchy_ , Harry thinks.

Before he even knows what's happening, tears are welling up in Harry's bright green eyes. His palms sting and his right knee feels like it's on fire, kids are running by and knocking into Harry where he sits on the pavement, and there's a single, thin stream of blood trickling down Harry's shin. Nothing is okay right now, and Harry does the only thing he knows that helps him cope with pain. He cries.

Harry's been told by adults that he's a 'tough kid', but he doesn't feel tough right now. He feels like a newborn baby. He can't seem to stop crying. His hands hurt real bad, and every time he tries to wipe the blood away from his knee it just smears all over his legs. He's frustrated and angry and he's in a lot of pain, and crying is the only thing that seems appropriate right now.

So Harry keeps crying. The tears feel hot where they're sliding down the smooth skin of Harry's face, and he can't wipe them away because there's blood on his hands and he doesn't want it near his eyes. The frustration just makes him cry harder, tears splatting onto his brand new just-for-school shorts that his mum bought him. Harry's knee still hurts more than anything he's ever felt.

Suddenly, Harry hears a voice.

"Are you okay?"

Slowly, Harry sniffs and looks up from his blood-stained knee to seek out the person who spoke. He expects to find one of his classmates, or maybe his teacher, but instead his eyes land on a boy who Harry's never seen before. He looks bigger than Harry, older and with longer hair than Harry's own. Harry can't see him quite right due to the tears obscuring his vision, but he knows that he's never met this boy in his whole life.

"Why are you bleeding?" the older boy asks, sitting down on the pavement next to Harry and looking at him expectantly. Harry looks momentarily down at his scraped-up skin and then back at the boy.

"I f-fell down," he answers. Another tear slips down his right cheek, but before it splats onto his shorts, the new boy reaches out and wipes it away. He also wipes away the wetness around Harry's eyelids, and Harry sniffles appreciatively at him.

"My name is Louis. I'm six. I'm sorry you fell down," the boy greets. Now that Harry's tears have been wiped away, he can see that Louis has straight brown hair just like his own, but Louis' eyes are a bright blue instead of green. The color makes him kind of happy for some reason.

"Hi, Louis," Harry says. He wipes the blood coating his palms onto the grass behind him as he continues, "I'm Harry Styles, and I'm…" he carefully counts out one, two, three,   _four_ fingers and holds them out proudly for Louis to see, "Four years old. I can count to twenty-five all by myself."

Louis smiles. "I can count to one hundred."

Harry gasps, eyes widening in awe. He's never met a boy who can count to one hundred before. He's only ever seen adults and big kids do it.  Maybe Louis is a super-genius. "Wow, you're smart," Harry compliments.

"Yeah, that's what my mum said," Louis agrees. He looks down at Harry's right knee, which is still covered in drying blood. "You're still bleeding. Does it hurt?"

Now that Harry thinks about it, his knee _does_  still hurt. It stings and the blood is starting to dry where it's smeared into his skin, and Harry feels the tears returning to his eyes. "Y-yeah, it does hurt," he squeaks, trying to blow on the scrape to ease the pain away.

"Wait, no, don't cry again," Louis demands softly, attempting to comfort the boy by holding Harry's wrist. He seems to think for a moment before saying, "My mum always kisses my boo-boos to make them better."

Harry's mum does the same thing and Harry always feels a little better afterward. Louis is looking questioningly at him, and Harry sniffs before asking feebly, "Can you kiss it?"

Louis nods and looks down at Harry's injured knee. There's dried blood on Harry's skin, but Louis doesn't seem to be grossed out. He leans forward, his warm hand wrapping loosely around Harry's ankle as he presses his lips to Harry's scraped knee in a soft kiss.

A funny, unfamiliar feeling fills Harry's tummy. It almost feels like there's a caterpillar squirming around in there, but not in a gross way. Instead, Harry feels like he wants Louis to kiss his knee again. He _likes_ the caterpillar feeling. It feels fuzzy and warm and happy and it makes Harry smile for the first time since he fell, white teeth on full display for a grinning Louis.

"Does it feel better now?" Louis asks hopefully.

Harry nods, smile still etched into his face. "Yeah."

Suddenly, Louis frowns and pokes Harry's cheek. "Uh, oh," he says. It's the same tone of voice that Harry's mum uses when Harry is in trouble, and it makes Harry stop smiling.

"What's wrong, Louis?" he asks worriedly. Oh, no, did Louis get hurt too? Or maybe he's about to throw up. Maybe he accidentally peed his pants, because Harry still does that sometimes and maybe Louis has the same problem.

Once again, a frown pulls at Louis' lips. "It's gone," he whispers confusedly. Harry feels Louis' hand poke and prod at his face as if searching for something, and even though Harry is worried for his new friend, he can't help but smile.

Louis' mouth opens in a small 'o' shape when Harry does so. He jabs his finger a little too hard into Harry's cheek, yelling, "Harry! You have a hole in your cheek!"

Oh, no. That's not good at all. "I do? Where?" he asks frantically, feeling his own face until his fingers find the indents in his smooth cheeks. "Oh, you mean my dimples," Harry smiles, showing them off for Louis, who is seemingly in awe. "My mum said that I'm lucky to have them. She says they're cute."

"Do they hurt?" Louis asks, staring avidly at the dimples in Harry's cheeks. Harry shakes his head no. Louis pouts, crossing his arms. "I want a dimple."

For some reason, Harry wants Louis to keep touching him. He wants Louis to uncross his arms and put his hands back on Harry's face, so that Harry can feel Louis' warm hands against his skin once again. For now, he works on making the boy happy again, because he likes the way Louis smiles.

"It's okay," Harry comforts, patting Louis' leg consolingly. "I would give you one of my dimples if I could."

Louis smiles. "Thanks, Harry."

Suddenly there's a woman standing next to the two boys, smiling kindly down at them. Harry has seen her a few times in school, but he doesn't really know who she is. She should go away. Harry is trying to spend time with his new friend.

"Louis, it's time to come inside, recess is over for our class," she says kindly to the older boy. Then she looks at Harry, her eyebrows furrowing unhappily as she takes in his scraped knee. "Oh, sweetie, you're from the kindergarten class, aren't you? Why don't you go find your teacher and get that cleaned up?"

Harry shakes his head defiantly. "I don't need to. Louis already kissed it better for me."

"You still need to clean the blood off, Harry," Louis tells him. And Harry wants to obey the older boy, wants Louis to like him, so he nods. He's rewarded with a smile, and Louis stands up and reaches for Harry's hand. "Come on, Harry, I'll help you find her."

All the while, Louis' teacher is just smiling a small smile at the two boys. "Come inside right after you find Harry's teacher, okay, Louis?"

Louis agrees to do so. Harry reaches up and grasps Louis' larger hand in his own, allowing Louis to help him to his feet. The larger boy smiles and laces their fingers together, which fills Harry with the squirmy-caterpillar feeling that he felt earlier. It makes him feel good, so Harry smiles, and Louis pokes his dimple.

"My teacher is right there," Harry tells Louis, pointing with his free hand to the lady standing near the slide, watching a few girls play hopscotch on the basketball court. Louis tightens his grip on Harry's hand and leads him over to Harry's teacher, a cool breeze ruffling both boys' unstyled hair.

"Hello, Harry," the teacher says as Harry and Louis come to a stop in front of her. She's smiling pleasantly, looking back and forth between the two boys until Harry speaks up.

"I got a boo-boo," he announces proudly, using Louis' side for balance as he lifts his right knee to show off the dried blood. "And I only cried a little bit, and then Louis kissed it better for me. I'm going to give him one of my dimples when I learn how to."

Harry's teacher laughs good-naturedly, giving Louis a thankful smile before carefully examining Harry's scraped knee. "Well, you're a tough boy, aren't you," she tells Harry, who glows with pride and smiles big at Louis. "We'll clean off this blood inside, okay, Harry?"

Nodding happily, Harry turns to Louis. "You can come with us."

Louis shakes his head sadly. "I can't, remember? I have to go right to my classroom now."

 _Wait, no,_ Harry thinks. He doesn't want Louis to leave. He wants Louis to stay with him and kiss his boo-boos okay and hold his hand. He wants Louis to poke his dimples and wipe his tears and make him smile so big that Louis can see every single one of his teeth. Louis can't just _leave_.

"Wait, no, don't leave, Louis," Harry pouts. After all, his mum usually lets Harry have what he wants if he pouts.

"I can't," Louis repeats sadly. "We can play tomorrow at recess, though."

That makes Harry smile, green eyes lighting up at the prospect of seeing Louis again tomorrow. "Okay."

Then Louis pulls Harry into a big hug, wrapping his arms all the way around Harry. He feels himself melt into it, thinking that Louis' hugs are his new favorite - beside his mum's, of course. Louis is warm and his hug makes Harry feel the caterpillar feeling once again, fuzzy and squirmy deep in his tummy.

"See you tomorrow," Louis says once the two boys pull out of the hug. "Pinky promise."

He holds out his pinky and Harry follows, linking their fingers together for a few moments. Louis' blue, blue eyes look into Harry's as they drop their hands away. Blue like the sky. Blue like the ocean. Blue like how Harry feels right now, what with Louis leaving and all.

"Bye, Louis," Harry whispers sadly as Louis turns as walks away. He watches the older boy until Louis disappears inside the building, and he really can't wait until tomorrow.

 

~*~

The next day, Harry is practically thrumming with energy as he dashes outside for recess. He can't wait to see Louis again, and he's itching to give Louis another hug. Just thinking about the older boy makes Harry's tummy caterpillar-squirm in the most wonderful way. He's very excited.

It's warm and sunny again, with fluffy white clouds bordering the blue, blue, _blue_ sky. _Louis' eyes are blue_ , Harry thinks happily. Blue is his new favorite color.

More careful than yesterday, making sure he doesn't trip again, Harry walks quickly down the pavement to the playground. It's a beautiful day, one that puts Harry in an absolutely lovely mood, and the prospect of seeing Louis again makes everything even better. Not to mention the fact that Harry's got kitty-cat band-aid's on his scrapes, which are his favorite kind because Harry loves cats.

"Harry!" somebody yells, and Harry looks around until he finds Louis, who's standing by the monkey bars and waving energetically. Harry smiles subconsciously, running over to Louis as fast as his little legs can carry him.

When Harry gets to Louis, pausing to catch his breath, he has a moment of realization. Louis is… beautiful. He's got sparkly blue eyes and soft-looking skin, scruffy brown hair and a brilliant smile when he looks at Harry. The smile has Harry's cheeks heating up, similar to the way they do when an adult compliments him. Harry's mum calls it _blushing_.

"Hi, Louis," Harry greets, waving and giving Louis a dimpled smile. He expects Louis to smile back, maybe poke Harry, but he doesn't. He frowns instead.

"Oh, no, Harry, your hand is bruised!" Louis exclaims. Brow furrowed, he takes Harry's hand in his own and examines the purpled skin of it. He's right, Harry's hand is bruised from yesterday, and Harry yelps loudly when Louis presses a thumb down on it. Louis jumps. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to hurt you!"

Harry shakes his head. "It's okay. It hurts though." Louis is looking concernedly at Harry, much the same way that he had when he saw Harry's scraped knee yesterday. It triggers the memory of Louis kissing Harry's knee, and the squirmy-caterpillar feeling. Harry wants to feel that again. Smiling sheepishly up at Louis, Harry holds out his hand invitingly. "Could you kiss it better, like yesterday?"

Louis gives Harry a shy smile, his cheeks a little pinker than usual. The color intrigues Harry. It's pretty, and pink is one of Harry's favorite colors, even though people think it's girly. Harry doesn't care, though. He thinks pink is lovely.

"Okay," Louis answers. He takes Harry's hand and presses his lips to the soft skin of his palm, lingering for a few seconds before kissing it once more. _Two kisses_ , Harry thinks, as his stomach squirms happily.

Harry drops his hand back down to his side once Louis releases him, smiling with warm cheeks at the older boy. "Thank you," he says shyly, "it feels better now."

The two small boys spend the rest of recess running around, pretending to be pirates as they chase after one another. It's the most fun Harry thinks he's ever had, because Louis does a good pirate voice and he lets Harry win their sword battle even though they both know that Louis is stronger. _I like Louis_ , Harry thinks. _I_   _like Louis a whole lot._

 

~*~

When Harry's mum picks him up from school that day, Harry is absolutely buzzing with happiness. His mum keeps shooting him weird looks in the rearview mirror, which Harry will return with silly faces or big, dimpled smiles. He doesn't think he's ever been this happy.

"So, how was school?" Harry's mum asks. She asks this every day on the drive home, and it always leads to a highly detailed description of Harry's day at kindergarten. Today, however, Harry answers his mum's question with another question.

"Have you ever felt like there's a squirming caterpillar in your tummy?" he asks curiously. He's been feeling that fuzzy, warm sensation a lot today, mostly whenever he talks to or thinks about Louis.

Harry's mum gives him an odd look in the mirror. "Not particularly. Why are you asking?"

Harry doesn't bother asking what the word ' _particularly_ ' means, because usually it's just a big adult word that actually just means _thing_ or _frog_  or something similar. Instead, he tells his mum, "I met a boy named Louis and he's six years old and he kisses my boo-boos and he makes me feel like there's a caterpillar in my tummy." He pokes his pudgy little tummy for emphasis, looking up at his mum for an answer. His mum always knows the answer.

A small smile is on his mum's face now, and her eyes are sparkling happily. "Oh, really? Tell me about this boy; Louis."

"Well," Harry begins, excited to tell his mum about his new friend, "he's in second grade and he likes to play pirates. His eyes are blue like the sky and he has straight brown hair just like mine, but his is longer. He's bigger than me and he's very cute." Suddenly, Harry realizes something. He smiles as he continues, "I want to kiss him, mum."

By now, Harry's mum is full-on grinning. She looks at Harry through the rearview mirror with the most happy look in her eyes. It reminds him of the look on her face when he said his first word, or when he walked for the first time, or when he read his first word - _kitty_.

"He sounds lovely, Harry," Anne tells Harry simply. Harry nods, agreeing whole-heartedly, and the rest of the car-ride is spent in thoughtful silence.

 

~*~

When recess comes around the next day, Harry has a plan. A rather brilliant plan, if he does say so himself. He's confident and excited, maybe even a little nervous as he walks out onto the playground, waiting for Louis to meet him at the monkey bars like yesterday.

And then there he is. He's walking toward Harry with a smile on his face, looking as lovely as Harry remembers him to be. "Hi, Harry," Louis greets, waving happily and giving Harry a little hug. Once he pulls back, he continues, "Wanna play pirates again? I can be the-"

He's cut off mid-sentence when Harry makes his best pouty face. It's the one he makes when he's hurt. Pouted lip, scrunched forehead, squinted eyes like he's trying not to cry. It's easy to fake, because Harry's cried many times and he's pretty used to making this same face.

Louis frowns, lifting Harry's chin to that he can see his face better. "Harry, what's wrong? Did you hurt yourself again?" He looks concerned, and Harry has to hold back a grin because his plan is _working_.

He nods sadly. "I ran into a pole."

"Oh, no!" Louis cries, his eyebrows shooting up in concern. "What'd you hit? Your eye? Your nose? Your forehead?"

"No," Harry shakes his head. His face heats up, and he whispers sheepishly, "I hit my lips."

"Oh," Louis answers. He's blushing too, and he looks like he's trying to figure something out. Harry can't help but smile, because Louis _believes_ him, and now there's only one step left in his brilliant plan. It's now or never.

"Can you… kiss me better?" Harry asks timidly, the epitome of shy, as he smiles his best smile up at Louis. Louis nods soundlessly. He cups Harry's jaw in his large, warm hand, thumb finding Harry's dimple where it punctures the otherwise smooth skin of his cheek. He looks determined and hopeful and nervous, and yeah, Harry can relate.

And then he just… does it. Louis leans in, and Harry does too, and they kiss. It's short and clumsy, a press of lips and Harry standing on his tiptoes, but it feels like the caterpillar is going insane in Harry's tummy. It makes him feel warm and happy and smiley, and Harry can't help but press several inexperienced pecks to Louis' soft lips, because it feels so good and he can't help himself.

When the two boys finally pull away, Louis' cheeks are bright pink and his eyes are wide and he's smiling, thumbs still pressing into Harry's dimples. Harry's never seen a boy so _beautiful,_ and he wonders if Louis feels the same way about Harry. Well, only one way to find out.

"Louis, do you think I'm pretty?" he asks shyly, biting his lip - the same lip that just kissed Louis.

The older boy blushes even brighter. "Yeah, I think you're very pretty." He's timid and shy and Harry thinks he looks lovely.

"I think you're pretty, too," Harry answers, smiling at Louis. "I like your eyes. They're blue."

Louis grins from ear to ear. "Your eyes are green."

Harry leans in, cupping his hand around Louis' ear before whispering, "I lied. I didn't run into a pole. I just wanted to kiss you." When he pulls away, satisfied with himself, Louis is blushing and leaning in to whisper something back.

"I lied, too," he admits, breath ghosting over the skin of Harry's ear, caterpillar squirming satisfyingly in his tummy. "My mum doesn't kiss my boo-boos better. I just made that up so that I could kiss you, even if it was only your knee."

And Harry can't help but kiss Louis again, right on the lips, just because he wants to and because Louis' pretty and his hair is a mess and Harry has never seen anything more kissable. And the caterpillar in his tummy? It's no longer a caterpillar. Harry is so happy that his tummy caterpillar has hatched into a beautiful butterfly, flapping its colorful wings and making Harry feel so light that he could fly.

Harry smiles, his vision narrowed down to Louis' beautiful blue eyes and the happiness that surrounds him.

"So, pirates?" Louis asks, gesturing to the playground around them, smiling at Harry and holding out his hand.

"Right, pirates," Harry answers, placing his hand in Louis' and allowing the boy to lead him into the wonderful world of the two boys' imaginations.

Falling asleep that night, his night light casting the room in a soft, golden glow, Harry looks up at his red ceiling and thinks about kissing Louis. The nerves, the happiness, the soft press of lips that made Harry feel so good. The way Louis said that Harry was pretty, and the sparkle in his oceanic eyes that made Harry think of home.

 _I should ask mum to paint my walls blue_ , he thinks happily, shutting his eyes. He drifts off to sleep with a smile on his face and a beautiful butterfly safe in his tummy.

**Author's Note:**

> So... how'd I do? I honestly don't know what that was, it might've sucked, but I had a strong urge to write it and I couldn't resist.
> 
> Leave kudos and comment letting me know what you think, love you all (: xx


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